


Forgetting my favorite song, remembering what I hate

by AssumeEveryoneWithASwordIsQueer



Series: Just wild knights defying the world [2]
Category: Arthurian Mythology
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Family Secrets, Gen, Loss of Parent(s), M/M, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-15
Updated: 2020-11-15
Packaged: 2021-03-10 04:13:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 798
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27568066
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AssumeEveryoneWithASwordIsQueer/pseuds/AssumeEveryoneWithASwordIsQueer
Summary: Sometimes we must lose everything to become stronger. Kay knows that to be true, as a knight, but this was never supposed to happen.
Relationships: Bedivere/Kay (Arthurian), Ector & Arthur Pendragon, Kay & Arthur Pendragon (Arthurian)
Series: Just wild knights defying the world [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2009782
Comments: 2
Kudos: 3





	Forgetting my favorite song, remembering what I hate

**Author's Note:**

> Some timelines and events have been changed around for the purpose of creative liberty, so cope.  
> Content warning for violence and flashbacks.

Kay was four when Arthur came into his life and his father stopped being the lively, joking man he was before his wife died giving birth to their only child. Kay knew no different by his tenth birthday. 

The rules in their house had always been simple. Own up to things, do your part, and protect your brother. Despite this, Kay had been trembling with fear when he brought his lover, Bedivere home at sixteen. 

He'd been so damn scared, but Ector had only yelled for the then twelve year old Arthur to go get an extra chair. While the boy was gone, he clasped both young men on the shoulders and said to never doubt what their hearts said. Things stopped being okay after that. Kay and Arthur were forced to move in with Bedivere when Ector's health began failing. They all knew it would only be a matter of time, so Kay did the only thing he thought to as a young knight. He bit down his emotions and let himself become cold to most. Bedivere almost left him, but the men were equally stubborn. After that, things were okay until that night in London before his tournament. The night he woke to Ector, his father who never raised his voice, shouting and sh as king him, dressed in armor he hadn't worn in 20 years. Kay knew better than to ask questions, simply helping Bedivere into his armor while Arthur harnessed him into his own. Kay made sure to grab his sword. The Wart had a habit of forgetting shit. An out of sight, out of mind thing. He was horrified to see their father harnessing his foster brother into his old armor, but had no more time for thought as s he registered the smell of smoke and death and heard the cacophony of swords and screams. Kay didn't remember what happened that night. He only recalled fragments of that night when he woke screaming in Bedivere's arms or spiralled in the halls at the mention of raids only to find himself choking on the very air he needed to breathe. The cries the kingdom was under attack. Bedivere leaping infront of him when his sword broke. Ector fighting, defending his sons even though two of them were not by his seed. The blade that found it's way through a crack in his dad's armor and through his chest. So much screaming, blood that didn't come out from under his nails for days. Taking his father's daggers as nd dull blade as Bedivere forced him screaming bloody murder away from his father's corpse to the temporary safety of a church courtyard. Those heathens who attacked, slaughtering men women and children alike. Arthur, the gangly teen in armor that would not fit him for a good three years tugging desperately at a sword forever lodged in a stone. Kay woke screaming again as Bedivere held him down. The grip was bruising, and later he would hear no end of the apologies. Arthur hovered near the bed, drawn from his own chambers by the cries of the man he still saw as his brother despite knowing the truth for six years. He looked at his own clean hands, then at Bedivere, who was not covered in blood as he'd been that dreadful night. "I-I'm sorry, go back to sleep, I'm fine." He swore to the others, though he could almost hear one of those Orkney boys calling his bullshit from across the sea. Bedivere shifted and held him close to his chest. He had never been one to speak much. Arthur walked over tho the bed and sat down, without a crown for the first time in a while and grasped his hand. "I wish we came about this differently too" he said. Arthur was 23, but his eyes seemed empty as and lost. Haunted. Kay hated to admit he lost count of how many men Arthur slaughtered just in his first year as king. Kay and Bedivere had little to argue on the matter of seeing too much so early. Bedivere had crows feet at the corner of his eyes and his knees protested when it got cold. Kay's hair had been stark white for six years. They were both 27. Kay knew everyone had to move on. That he would move on despite how impossible it seemed. He just wished his dad was there to see the men his son and "sons" had become instead of wasting away in a shallow, unmarked grave Arthur dug with the very sword Kay wanted to keep him away from. All good things were gold, he assumed. And gold things are valuable. Valuables are always the first to go when destiny desides to tsm a stick up your-


End file.
